Killer Instinct
by DanniMitchell85
Summary: Set after Season 3. Sofia has studied animalistic behavior for a good part of her life,  it's an important part of her job as a vet. However she never thought that she would find the raw and basic traits in another human. Happy/OC, Drama,Crime,Romance.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Notes:**_ Before you all panic, I have not forgotten about 'Born to Die'. It's just taking longer to get the next chapters out. There is much planning that goes into that story, and I thought that while you are all waiting that you would like something else to capture you minds.

This story is going to move a lot faster than 'Born to Die' and is going to be shorter, around ten chapters.

_**!WARNING!**_This story is going to have a very heavy presence of dog fighting, and animal cruelty. I do _**NOT**_ condone the abuse of animals, but it is a factor in the plot-line and dog fighting is used as a means for illegal gambling, and sport.

Also, I have never stepped foot in a courtroom, other than the time I got married -yes my husband and I eloped- so I really am just going off of every law show that I have seen, to put some of the scenes together. Please understand that I have no knowledge of what really goes on inside a courtroom.

There are pictures up on my profile page of the new OC's.

_**Killer Instinct**_

_**Chapter ONE **_

There was something about being inside a courthouse that made Sofia Reagan feel like she had to watch her every move. Some part of her was afraid that she would do something illegal and be caught, thrown behind bars, and labeled a menace to society. There was such a presence in a place like this, which made her think about every action before she made it.

Readjusting her tan, knee length skirt as she sat on a wooden bench in the hall, waiting to be called into the courtroom, she couldn't help but observe the wide hallway. At every corner there were officers of the law, standing at their post, keeping an eye out to make sure that nothing happened to those who worked within the walls of the building. And also to keep order, should a defendant or protesters get rowdy or violent.

Lawyers and attorneys stood around, holding onto important stacks of files and paper work, waiting for their clients to meet with, to discuss whatever case they were involved in. Looking over to her own pile of paperwork, she was glad that she didn't have to deal with the amount of stress those stiff suites had to work under. She wasn't here as a prosecutor or even a defender, she wasn't involved in the case directly.

She was here as a professional witness.

She heard the creaking of heavy wooden doors open, and looked over to her right in time to see the bailiff walking out and approach her. Everything, from the way he stood and held himself, to the appearance of his crisp and spotless uniform, told her that he took his job very seriously. The hardened scowl on his face made it clear that he had seen everything there was to see inside a courtroom. Resting his aged hand on his sidearm, Sofia wondered for a brief moment if he had ever had to fire off his weapon within these very halls.

"They are ready for you, Doctor Reagan." He said in a strong voice.

"Thank you." Sofia replied with a smile, hoping that it would soften the larger man. She was sure that he didn't get very many smiles in his line of work. Gathering up her files she stood up from the bench, straightened her back, allowing her silk charcoal blouse to fall properly back into place, and followed him into the court room. Her black two inch heels clicked on the tiled floor, echoing in the courtroom as she entered.

She didn't look over to either side of the courtroom; rather she kept her eyes fixed on the older man at the front of the room, who sat behind a dark polished wooden bench. She wasn't going to lose her focus, she wasn't going to risk a look at the man who she was hoping would be locked away after today's trial.

With every case that she found herself a part of, Sofia tried to keep her emotions out of it, locking them away. Something that was difficult every time and something she failed to accomplish. It was so hard to not invest her whole self into the case that she found herself involved in. She was passionate about what she did, that it was second nature to her, and she had to force herself to pull back and keep an objective mind.

"Your Honor." She addressed Judge Marten as he leaned over his large desk. This wasn't the first time she had stepped foot in his courtroom, but that never stopped her stomach from twisting into nervous knots. Each time he would greet her the same way, with a slight nod of his graying head, and barely looking at her over the bifocals that rested low on his nose.

Judge Marten was a fair Judge in her eyes. He wasn't one to deal out harsh punishments just for the power trip, and he was one who truly wanted to hear both sides to every story. He wanted as much information on a case, and he made both sides work hard to prove their points.

With his slight nod, and wave of his hand, she walked up to the witness stand, placed all her files down, and then turned to the bailiff who was now standing in front of the witness box, holding out a black leather bound book that had 'The Holy Bible' written in a bold golden print. Reaching out she placed her right hand on the holy book, holding up her left and took the vow to tell the truth, and only the truth.

Once she was finished swearing in before the court and God, she pulled her skirt down a bit as she took her seat, making sure that she sat up as straight as she could, crossed her legs at her ankles in front of her, and awaited the first question.

As she waited for the prosecutor to approach her and start the questioning, she couldn't help herself as she looked over to the left side of the room where the defendant was sitting. What met her eyes made her skin crawl. The man who was trying to prove his innocence looked as though he could win a staring contest with the devil. His bitter cold, dark eyes held hers, and she knew that without a doubt, that he was a very dangerous man.

'_Killer_,' a voice screamed inside her head. '_Murderer,'_ it echoed.

His pressed black suit, more than likely a name brand, fit him as if it had been custom tailored. The thick gold chain that hung around his neck, added with the large gold, diamond encrusted rings on his hands, told her that he was used to getting what he wanted. Money was everything to this man.

If she hadn't known what he was involved in, she would have thought that he had a 'charming' look about him. It was easy to see that he was of Latino descent, his naturally sun kissed skin and dark hair that swept longer than most men would wear it, giving him the look of a pop singer that would have all the teeny-boppers falling over with a hormone overload.

But none of that mattered. She knew what he was hiding, knew the evil he was capable of.

Sofia watched as he grinned at her with his 'perfect' white smile, as he leaned back into the chair that he was sitting in. Her skin crawled as she felt his eyes wander over her body, as if he was appraising a show dog. The arrogance that was seeping off him in waves was sickening. She could see that he thought this case was a waste of time, and she was sure that he thought that he was going to walk out of this courthouse a free man.

"Please state your full name and occupation for the court." The Judge instructed her. Sofia pulled on all her inner strength and held her head high.

"Sofia Reagan, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine." Sofia answered. She was trying to use her best 'doctor' tone that she could, without coming off as to firm or harsh. She wasn't about to show any sign of weakness in front of the predator of a man who sat on the left side of the room. Men like him would latch onto any sign of vulnerability, twist it, and use it to their advantage.

"Mr. Mathews, your witness." The Judge said as he looked over to the prosecutor.

"Thank you, Your Honor." The young prosecutor addressed the Judge as he got up from his chair behind the desk that he was using to lay out all his paperwork. Stepping around the table, he took a moment to gather his thoughts, running a hand over his dark red tie and then closed his dark gray blazer, re-buttoning it.

"So you're a veterinarian?" The prosecutor asked, verifying her title.

"That is correct." She answered with a nod.

She watched as he walked forward, looking down as he did so. It was clear that he was trying to put into words what he was going to ask her, and all she could do was wait and answer him as best as she could. She had known going into this trial that this was one of Mr. Mathews first cases. He was fresh out of school, and his office had given him the chance to prove himself. She could only hope and pray that he was fully prepared for this trial.

Over the past few days that they had been working together, preparing and practicing for the case, she noted that he seemed to have the confidence that was needed. Now it was left to see if he could handle it when it came to the real deal.

"On May the Second, of this year, you were called out to assist the local police with rounding up of eight dogs, which had been beaten, and abused. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I was called out to look at the condition of eight dogs." She clarified for the court. "The local SPCA wasn't able to take the call directly, and I've worked with them many times in the past, and have a partnership with them. The local authorities know to call me if the SPCA is unable to assist."

Nodding his head, the prosecutor held onto his chin as he rested his elbow on his other arm that was crossed over his chest. "So this wasn't the first time that you have been called out to help, when animals are concerned, is it Dr. Reagan?"

"No." Sofia answered. She had been called out many times in the past, and she knew that there were more calls that would be made in the years to come.

"Tell the court what you saw once you got to the scene." He pushed as he continued to walk around.

"Upon arriving at the scene, the first thing that caught my attention was the pure filth that the dogs where living in. There where ten cages along the far side of the house, five on the ground, the other five placed on top. There wasn't any paneling between the top and bottom, so the urine and other waste had been allowed to fall from the top cages to those on the bottom." Sofia said as she looked around the court room. "Two of the eight dogs where loose from the cages, but where chained down by heavy duty towing chains."

"Towing chains?" The young man asked.

"Yes, the type of chains that are used to tow a car behind a tow truck." Sofia answered. It wasn't the first time that she had seen the use of the chains. It wasn't known for sure why they were used, but it was thought that the heavy chains could build up a dog's strength. It was a cruel form of conditioning and many times would result in the death of the dog. If the chain was too heavy for them, they wouldn't be able to walk around to ether eat, get water, or find cover from the heat.

"Are you a tow truck driver now Doctor?" The defender called out from beside his client. Both men had a disturbing smile.

"Your Honor, Please." Mr. Mathew spoke to the Judge, as he held out his hands.

"Mr. Gates, you will hold your words till it's your time to question the witness." Judge Marten said, looking at the defendant, who only held up his hands in surrender, nodding his head.

Looking over to the snaky man, she tried hard not to shiver as he grinned at her. She knew better then to fall into the trap that he was trying to bait.

"As I said," She restated, "two of the dogs were chained down, unable to seek cover from the harsh heat, nor did they have any water."

"And the other dogs, what about them?"

Reaching into one of the files she had with her, she brought out some photos. "Three of the dogs had their ears, and tails cut off, and two of those dogs had duck tape wrapped around their snouts." She handed the photos over to the Judge and watched as he looked them over, then sitting them on his desk.

"Go on." Judge Marten spoke to her.

"It was easy to see that they had been used as bait dogs. Their ears and tails had been removed to prevent the attack dog from latching onto them, and pulling. Their snouts taped shut so they couldn't fight back and injure the fighting dog."

"So you are saying, that in your professional opinion, that they had been used in dog fighting?" The Prosecutor asked.

"Yes." Sofia said with a nod, which only caused the other half of the court room to erupt into outrage.

"Objection!" The Defender called out as he jumped up from the chair that he had been sitting in. "There was no proof that my client had any part in any dog fighting! It's pure speculation!"

"Proof? The dogs are all the proof that is needed!" Sofia called out over the loud hum of the room. There was no denying that the dogs that she had seen where a part of a fighting ring. There had been bite marks and open wounds on all eight of the dogs. The three bait dogs, had all been near death, and had to be euthanized.

"Order! I will have order in my courthouse!" Judge Marten called out over the yelling, as he slammed down his gavel on his desk.

It took a few moments for the room to simmer down. Mr. Mathews, who was still standing, looked back over at Sofia and nodded to her. "No further questions, You Honor." He said, then turned and made his way back behind the table.

"Mr. Gates, your witness." The Judge said to the defender. Sofia watched as he stood, straightened out his suit and tie, then walked around the desk to approach her.

"Dr. Reagan, did you see the dogs fighting?" He asked in a calm voice, as he leaned into the witness stand. His closeness was unnerving, but she wasn't going to show that he was getting to her. It was all a game to him, and she never was one who liked losing to cheaters.

"Mr. Gates you will remove yourself from the witness stand. I won't warn you a second time." The Judge said in a strong voice. Sofia held her head high, and saw that the Bailiff had inched closer. She was sure that he would 'remove' Mr. Gates himself should the defender not heed the Judges warning.

Once the shady man backed up, placing his hands in his pockets, Sofia found her voice.

"No." Sofia said. It was the truth, and as much as she wanted to say something to make sure that this was an open and close case, she had taken a vow on the Holy Bible to speak only truth.

"So you don't know for sure that this so called 'dog fighting' took place." He stated with a smile.

"The dogs are all the evidence that you need." She said once again. "All three of the bait dogs, had been stolen.

They each had an ID chip that we scanned for in their necks. It's a well known fact that fighting rings will steal or kidnap family pets to use as bait, to train the fighting or attack dogs." She answered strongly. It was one of the hardest things that she had to deal with as a vet. Putting down family pets that had been taken from their loving homes and used in the blood sports was heart wrenching.

Those who were behind the fighting, who trained and bred the dogs to hate, starving and beating them till they craved blood, didn't want to deal with 'adopting' or 'buying' other dogs or pets that would only serve the purpose of being torn apart.

With a laugh, Mr. Gates turned to the Judge. "So at the most, my client is guilty of housing a few lost pets." He said looking back to Sofia with knowing grin. "There is nothing that can prove he had anything to do with the condition of them. Who is to say that he didn't even find them already in that poor condition, and was trying to help nurse them back to health?"

A sick feeling took hold of Sofia, the knots where long gone from her stomach and now there was a raging storm taking over. She knew, from past cases, that it was hard to prove anyone guilty of dog fighting. The blood sport was too guarded, and those who participated in it, were all part of other large organized crime unites. It was just like drugs or gun running, it was a source of income, and they would do whatever they could to protect it.

"I have no further questions." Mr. Gates said as he made his was back over to his client.

"Thank you Dr. Reagan." Judge Marten said as he wrote something down. It was his way of telling her that he had heard all he needed to from her and her part of the trial was now over. Picking up her files, she stood up and stepped down from the witness stand.

She didn't have to hang around to learn what the outcome of the trial would be. Mr. Gates and his client would win, like all the others before them. She had to wonder for a brief moment why she even bothered to keep coming into testify, it wasn't doing anyone any good. There was no justice. She had hoped that Mr. Mathews would have more to throw at them, but it looked like he had been relying on her testimony to seal the case. Something that he would learn from, and hopefully not do again, but it didn't change the likely outcome this time around.

At the end of the day a man would walk free, planning on how to get a hold of another dog to train and prep. All the while she was left to deal with the mess left behind. She would be the one who would be working with the dogs who weren't put down, hoping that they would improve and show signs of recovery. The knowing that most families wouldn't ever look at them due to their scares, missing ears, or tail, was painful for her. They wouldn't get to know what living with a loving family would be like, people didn't adopted damaged pets.

She was about to pass both the prosecutor and defender, when she heard the cat call from the man who was going to walk away from his crimes.

"Maybe you and I could get together later, and you can show me how to properly care for my animals?" He said with a smile that made Sofia want to vomit. She wasn't stupid, the lust and desire was clear to see in his eyes. He didn't even try to control his needs, thinking that he was entitled to whatever he wanted.

"Mr. Gates." The Judge called out, having heard what had been said. "You will keep your client under control. Next time I hear even a whisper come from that side of my courtroom, I will hold you both in contempt of court."

Relived to hear the Judge's voice, and his warning, Sofia turned and made her way out of the courtroom, wanting to get as far away as possible. Once outside, she slumped down on the same wooden bench that she had sat on before, and took a few deep breaths. She had known that it was a long shot to prove that he was behind the fighting, but she hoped that the prosecutor would do his job and press for something else, there was no way that they could let that man walk away without more than a slap on his hands.

Pulling herself together, she gathered all her things and made her way out of the courthouse. She didn't want to hang around, not wanting to run in to that man again. As far as she was concurred she wasn't ever going to have to worry about him again. Most like him in the past, up and move, finding a new place to open shop where there isn't as much heat on him. Knowing that there are going to be eyes watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake, she was positive that he would find a new town to build up his new fighting ring.

Walking outside she felt the heat of the day. It was only ten in the morning, the case trial having started at seven, and she knew that it was going to be another hot day. Making her way down the steps, she headed for the parking lot, and to her Jeep.

Opening the driver's side door, she leaned over and flopped all her files down on the side seat, and then reached into the back for her change of shoes.

She had never been one to dress up; she would rather wear her sneakers then high heels. She knew that the heels made her legs look even toner then they where, but they killed her feet. And she wasn't sure, but she would guess that men would rather deal with a happy woman, rather than one who was pissed off because her feet where killing her.

Even growing up she had always been a bit of a tomboy, choosing to wear jeans and a lose shirt rather than a skirt or dress. However she knew that at times like this, it was best to look the part, comfort would have to take a back seat.

Once her grey flats where slipped on her feet, Sofia dug into her bag for a hair tie. As much as she loved her long dirty blonde locks, they always found their way in her face while she was driving. It didn't matter if the AC was blowing, or the weather was nice enough for the top to come off her jeep, little strands of hair always found a way to bother her.

Finding a clip, she twisted her long hair and pinned it back, happy that she wasn't going to have to deal with fighting it on her way home.

Pulling herself into the black jeep, she reached over to close her door, when she saw the defendant walking out of the courthouse. He seemed to know where she was in the parking lot, glanced her way, and smiled at her. He was a free man, and she could see the proud, sickening arrogance rolling off of him even from a distance.

"One of these days," She said to herself, knowing that the man, who was shaking hands with his lawyer as they stood on the steps of the court house, couldn't hear her. "I hope you get bit." She breathed out as she pulled her door shut with a slam.

She wasn't one to wish harm on anyone, but she knew that the justice system failed, letting those who should be behind bars walk free, and those who had been misrepresented, trapped in the injustice. Life was not fair, she knew that. She just hoped that someday Jose Mendoza, the very man who was walking away as a free man, would end up in a dark alley and found himself having to face an evil darker than him.

'_What goes around comes around.'_ Sofia thought as she placed the key in the ignition and turned it. Her jeep roared to life, and she didn't want to waste any more time then she already had. The day was still young, and she had a lot to mark off her 'to-do' list.

_**Authors Notes: **_Well this is it for the first chapter, let me know what you all think, and there is more to come soon!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Authors Notes:**_ First off I would like to thank those who reviewed the first chapter, when I posted this, I wasn't sure how well it was going to be received, but your kind words put to rest all my doubts and fears. Thank you.

Also, another heartfelt thank you goes out to Kaylalong. Without her help this story wouldn't be what it is. She not only helps with the spelling and grammar, but also in keeping me grounded and being a SoA fact-checker. She also sent me this awesome link that I would love to share with you all. It can be found on my profile page along with pictures of my new OC's. I'll give you a hint… it's with DL, and you may learn a few things about 'Happy' and what season 4 may hold for all of us.

_**Killer Instinct**_

_**Chapter Two**_

Things where changing, the club was changing. As much as he wanted to ignore the fact, Happy knew that it wasn't wise; he couldn't turn a blind eye to what was going on around him. He took note and kept tabs of every shift, every move, knowing that sooner or later he wouldn't be able recognize the club for what it once was.

The power struggle going on between the club's President and Vice President had Happy, and many of his brothers, sitting on the sidelines finding it hard to choose who to side with, and whom to support. Only two members had made their choice, picking who they were going to support should things get out of hand. Opie always had stood strong and steadfast behind Jax, his best friend since childhood, so it wasn't a shock to know that he would side with the young VP without a second thought. Tig, the club's SAA, had been the other, following Clay as a loyal guard dog, willing to do his bidding, if only to receive a 'job will done' in return.

Happy himself was torn. He thought that having spent over twenty years in the club, he would know who to lean towards. He had seen shifts in power before in other charters. Some were out of necessity, when a high ranking patched member went away to do time, or if his life was cut short. Others, on a rare occasion, when a member would step down, handing off the responsibility to one who was younger and more physically able to handle the stress of the job, and the demands of the hard life. No matter what the reason behind the change though, there was always a period of time that everyone would wonder if they had voted in the right man to fill the role.

The enforcer in him, whose job it was to insure the club's rules where followed and survived, whether it is from an outside attack or an inside threat, wanted to stand behind Clay. He understood the current President and knew that Clay had the club's best interest in mind. Clay was a man who had reached out to other clubs, formed alliances, and even patched over other MC charters, to expand the Sons' territory. He ruled with an iron fist, and dealt with those who betrayed the club, the brotherhood.

Happy had a deep respect for Clay, the man wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. He had been the one who had dealt with McGee, pushing him off the roof for betraying the club for his own greed. He had taken it upon himself to rid the club of a traitor, one who had been a founding member and close friend. But Clay looked over that to do what was best for the club; he never let his emotions control what needed to be done.

One thing Happy couldn't ignore though was the fact that Clay was reaching the end of his road. He wasn't a young man anymore, and they had a simple rule in place that was abided by all, _'You can't vote, if you can't ride.'_ How then did Clay expect to hold onto his President patch and keep his seat at the head of the table, if he could barely keep a grip on his handlebars? It was a well known fact that all those years of working with his hands were catching up with him. It was plain to see the suffering in his eyes nowadays when he would try to do the simplest of things, such as lighting one of his much favored cigars.

However Happy, and most the other members of the SAMCRO mother charter, chose to look the other way. No one wanted to think about what the club would be like should someone else take his place. Clay was the one man who wasn't afraid to make a call that would give others sleepless nights. There was no doubt in Happy's mind that Clay had made some choices that he wouldn't make again, but he never showed regret, he stood behind his ruling, and he never lost sleep over the outcome. He made the choices based off what he knew at the time, making sure that it would be best for the club and those who he called family.

Happy knew that Clay wasn't as cold hearted and cruel as some thought him to be, not by a long shot. In many ways, Clay was like himself. They were both passionate about motorcycles, each having spent many hours working on them almost to the point of having a close intimate relationship with them. Their Harleys weren't made up of just two wheels and a motor; they were so much more. Their rides where the only thing that could give them the freedom they needed, and the rush that pulsed through their veins.

They also shared a fierce loyalty to the club and family. The desire to protect those close to them was so ingrained into their very beings that they couldn't even begin to fathom what life would be like outside the MC, and away from their brothers.

He had seen Clay fight back tears when he had told the club about Gemma's rape. He saw the pain and hurt in his eyes when he talked about it, knowing that he was hurting at the thought of what his wife had gone through. There was softness in Clay that Happy himself had not been able to find, and as years went on he doubted that he ever would.

What had happened to Gemma affected the whole club, not just Clay and her son. Happy knew that life for an Old Lady wasn't all glamorous as the movies and TV shows made it out to seem. Sure they were taken care of, they always had the things they needed and sometimes even wanted, but not without a very high price. Many of them were targeted, beaten, raped, hurt, and even killed. All in order to sent messages to those who they shared a bed with.

When an attack on an Old Lady was initiated, most men lost all thought or reason. He had heard about what Opie had gone through when his wife, Donna had been killed; he knew that it tore his brother's heart out. But before Clay ran off, to shoot up those who had been responsible for the transgression, he took it to the table, needing to know that his brothers were behind him.

His family was the club, and the club was his family. Clay never made a move without talking to his brothers first. He knew that was what the enemy wanted, their plan was to unravel the Sons, but Clay had caught on.

Happy himself couldn't understand how Clay had been able to handle the thought that someone else had touched what was his. Even as a kid, Happy never like to share, and he never let others play with his toys or belongings. As he got older he never grew out of it. He worked hard for what he had, and where he was, he wasn't about to just hand that over to someone else. Some would call it possessive, but he wasn't greedy. He just didn't easily trust others with things that belonged to him.

He had never taken a wife or even committed to an Old Lady, so he didn't even try to imagine what his brothers had gone through. He knew what it felt like when someone close to him was hurt, he knew the rage and anger that took root, and his respect for Clay only grew when he saw how he dealt with it. He had kept a cool head, making sure that they were all on the same page before any plans were made. Then knowing that Jax was just as hurt as he was, Clay had allowed his step-son to deal the deadly blow.

Something Happy wasn't sure he would have done if he had been in his shoes.

Jax, the son of John Teller – founder of the Sons of Anarchy - and current VP to the Sons, it was only a matter of time before he took over, if he didn't bite it between now and then. The young man was raw and open, but smart and cunning. Happy couldn't help but smile, seeing that type of passion was refreshing. It brought back memories of himself when he had been young, trying to find his footing in life, and taking everything in as much as he could. It took Happy a while to find his place in the world, and he knew that it was going to take Jax time to adjust to his role as well.

However, during that time, while Jax was trying to make his own name, trying to step out from under his stepfather's shadow, and trying to not be seen as his late father, Jax was pushing and pulling the club with him. Everything that the kid did was driven by his heart.

Something that had caused the club some problems in the past and Happy would be a fool if he didn't think that it would happen again.

Jax had been lost when his infant son had been taken, unable to function with knowing that he was missing. It had taken the whole club to pull him out of it, to make him realize that him sitting in a nursery, empty bottles and cigarette butts scattered around him, wasn't going to fix anything. It wasn't going to bring his son back. They had to force him into a shower, and slap some sense back into him.

Again, Happy couldn't even begin to think what the young man had been going through. He had known that the MC life was hard as a fully patched member; he wasn't sure how Clay, Jax and Opie had been able to pull it together when their families had suffered because of the club.

Knowing that if he had a family, that they would always be in danger, and knowing that he wouldn't be able to always prevent something horrible from happening to them, was something that had forced Happy to realize the real reason he had never taken someone as an Old lady or even a special fuck buddy. He wasn't sure he would be able to pull himself together in order to do what needed to be done. When he committed to something, he gave his all. No matter if it was drinking and fucking, to killing someone the club needed out of the way. He knew himself well enough to know that it could develop into a problem, something he was protecting the club from.

He had a hard enough time worrying about his sick and elderly mother, making sure that she was safe and taken care of. He had taken precautions to make sure that nothing followed him home, and he made sure that he kept his mother's location a secret any who where outside the club. The thought that something could happen to his mother was always on his mind, it was something that haunted his nightmares while he had been locked up for those long fourteen months. He had entrusted Kozik to watch out for her, even told him that he had to sit and talk with her, ask her about her day, and even take her on small walks if she was feeling up to it. It had killed him that he wasn't the one that was there for her, he was her son, it was his job to take care of her.

So when he thought back to his brothers who had families, even Chibs' family that was in another country, he couldn't understand how they could handle the constant worrying. It was hard enough making sure that his brothers were safe, watching their back at every turn, and worrying about his mother, that the idea of taking on a woman and a family was frightening to him. He was man enough to know what his limits were, he knew not to push his luck and take too much on at once.

Contrary to popular belief, Happy had more emotion and heart in him than he showed. He knew that he had to keep everything in check, knowing that his brothers looked to him to be the strong steadfast member in any situation. He was loyal to a fault, and would do anything that was needed to protect those who were close to him.

Anything less was unacceptable.

So when all the shit started to hit the fan within the club, when they had to deal with other rival MC's and gangs crossing their borders, pushing drugs into their town, when they had the ATF sniffing around, and when Jax started to try and change the club, Happy felt like he was being pulled apart.

He knew that the Teller-Morrow family _was_ SAMCRO, not just members who paid seventy five dollars a month and came to all the parties. So he should have known that if things changed within the family, it would bleed over into the club.

At this point, there wasn't much he could do. Knowing that he wasn't accomplishing anything by over thinking things, Happy looked down into his shot glass and tossed back what was left of the dark amber liquid.

"Hey, broth'a." Happy heard the smooth voice of his fellow former Tacoma brother. Setting down his shot glass, he nodded to Kozik. "Clay's calling us all to the table in ten." Kozik said as he slapped him on the back and took a seat on the empty stool next to him.

"B'out what?" Happy asked, his voice sounding rough even to himself. While he listened to Koz tell him about what Clay was going to be addressing at church, he dug in his pockets for a smoke, and his lighter.

"Shit," Koz said as he rubbed his hand over his clean shaven face. "More than likely has something to do with that problem the Mayans are dealing with."

"Fuck, they can't deal with their own shit?" Happy asked as he took a drag from his freshly lit cigarette. Even though they had a running truce with the Mayans, the Sons still kept their eyes on them. They let them run their drugs through Charming, for a fee, but they weren't to sell any within the town's limits. It was more of a working business agreement than anything else. The Sons still never let their guard down while in Mayan territory, and they made it a habit to know what the other MC was up to.

"They're fucking wetbacks man, what the hell do you expect?" Kozik said without missing a beat as he looked around the almost empty clubhouse. "Well, I gotta go round up the others." He said standing up and patting Hap on the back once again.

Taking the last pull from his smoke, Happy couldn't help the feeling in the pit of his stomach. It had been six months since they had been out of lock up, and it had been all too quiet. He knew that something was about to turn the club upside down. He could only hope and pray that the power struggle with Jax and Clay would cool down so that the club could survive whatever was headed their way.

Taking advantage of the rare quiet time in the clubhouse, Happy enjoyed the nicotine, letting it work its magic on his nerves. He knew enough to know that this peace wasn't going to last long; this was the calm before the storm.

Rolling his shoulders, and straightening his back, he snuffed out the last burning embers of his cigarette in one of the many ash trays lining the bar top. Turning around in the swivel stool, he got down and readjusted his pants, making sure that his gun and knife where still in their rightful places. His booted feet never made a sound on the old hardwood floor as he headed to the church room. He dug in his pant pocket and took out his pre-paid cell phone and placing it in the box before he walked inside.

Soon his other brothers joined him, all greeting him with smiles, nods and handshakes. It was early Tuesday morning, so most of his brothers were out in the shop working on cars that had come in for repair. Juice threw an oily rag at him as he passed by him on his way to his seat, to which he caught before it landed on his mark, his face.

"Fucker." Happy rasped out, and then wadded it up and threw it back, catching the younger man in the face, then watched as it fell from its mark and landed on his laptop.

"Dude!" Juice shouted. "Not the computer! Do you know how long it takes to clean out the keys?" He complained as everyone laughed at his misfortune. Everyone took to their seats, waiting for Clay to enter, Happy placing himself between Piney and Juice.

Clay marched in, and nodded to everyone as he took his seat at the head of the table. He nodded over to Kozik, giving him the signal to close and lock the doors. Once the heavy wooden doors where pulled together, Clay let out a long breath. Whatever he had on his mind, was big.

"Just got off the phone with our friend Alvarez," He began as he rubbed at his cheek. "He is two weeks late on his payment, said that he hasn't been able to make any deliveries, something about someone poaching all the buyers."

"Fuck." Tig said from his seat beside Clay. It was plain to see the uneasiness that he was experiencing. Out of all his brothers, Tig was one that didn't worry about hiding what he was feeling. If he was horny, he made it clear to everyone around him; the SAA had no problem jerking himself off right in front of anyone if there wasn't a willing partner around. When he became pissed and enraged, there was little that anyone could do to calm him down, short of climbing in the boxing ring with him.

But what Happy was gathering from Tig at the moment, was more along the lines of worry, rather than rage. As the Sergeant-at-Arms of the Sons of Anarchy MC, his role went beyond just keeping order while they were in church, and enforcing the rules that Clay put into place. He had stepped up and had taken on an almost 'protector' role, much like himself and Kozik.

He could only imagine what was going through his brother's mind at the moment.

"If Alvarez doesn't make deliveries, then how is he supposed to make payments?" Bobby spoke up as he pulled out a small black leather book from his inner cut pocket, opening it to a marked page as he placed his reading glasses on. "That's a shit load of money that we would be out." He added. "That was a nice income that we could depend on each month, without that we are going to be in a tight spot."

As the secretary and appointed treasurer of the club, it was Bobby's job to keep track of all their money, in and out. Anything that dealt with their money or accounts had to go through Bobby first. He was responsible to make sure that those who owed them, paid up. He was also the one who would bail brothers out should they need it. He knew more about what really went on within the club them most members, and it was because of that, that he was always looking over his shoulder.

There were those out there that would love nothing more than to get him to talk, he could bring down the whole club single handedly if he chose to. As far as Happy was concerned, Bobby had never ratted out the club, and would rather take his own life than give up his brothers.

"Do we know who the new player is?" Opie asked, bringing everyone back to the other possible problem.

"Nope." Clay said as he started to dig around in his cut for something to smoke. "Not a fucking clue."

"That's just fucking great." Jax said, leaning back. "This is bad. If we have someone new trying to push drugs, then it's only a matter of time before they come here." He said tapping the redwood table.

"Not only that Jacky-boy. If we can't keep on good terms with the Mayans, who's to say they won't try to sell in Charming in order to find new buyers." Chibs added.

"They ain't selling in Charming." Clay said in a firm voice. Making it clear that they weren't going to sit around and watch their town fall to drugs.

"We need to know what we are dealing with." Bobby spoke up, as he placed the ledger back into his cut.

"What is Alvarez doing?" Happy asked. He wasn't one to speak up most the time when they were at the table, but something about this felt off.

Clay looked over to him, "He said he's _'looking'_ into it."

"Fuck that shit!" Tig said. "How do we know he ain't telling us lies? He could be trying to get out of paying us. How do we know it's the truth?"

"We don't." Clay said leaning over the table with his newly lit cigar between his lips. "I want to know what he is up to, and find out who this new _'player'_ is, if he even exists." He said as he took a long drag of his tobacco.

"Too bad we can't send in some members in to do some recon." Juice added as he looked down at his folded hands that where on top of the carved redwood, in front of his computer.

"Shit, Alvarez would fucking lose it if he thought we didn't trust him to take care of his own problem." Piney said as he took a deep inhale of oxygen that was supplied by the tube that ran under his nose.

"Do we?" Opie questioned his brothers.

"Fuck no."Tig said with grim look set on his face. "This fucking stinks, something else is going on."

"All in favor of finding out what Alvarez and the rest of those Mexican bastards are up to, raise your hand." Clay said, lifting his own. He didn't hold back a smile as all those in the room followed his lead. "Alright, so it's agreed, we need to know what the hell is going on." He said slamming down the worn out and over used gavel.

"So who is going to go?" Juice asked as he looked up and around the room. He sat up straighter when he felt all eyes on him. "What?" He asked, not understanding why everyone was just grinning at him. "Wait, ME?" He asked, looking to Clay as he realized what everyone was thinking.

"Well shit, you are the intelligence officer aint' ya?" Clay said with a wide grin. "And it was your idea."

Happy couldn't contain his deep rich laugh as it blended in with the others. It was clear that Juice hadn't thought his plan all the way through before he threw it out in front of his brothers.

"Fuck, the kid wouldn't last fifteen minutes; they would spot him coming from a mile away." Bobby said, coming to Juice's aid.

"I didn't say he would be going alone." Clay said shaking his head, then looking up he looked directly at Happy.

Meeting Clay's stare, Happy understood what he was saying without words. His job as protector was coming into play; he would accompany Juice and make sure that nothing happened to the younger member while they tried to find out what was going on.

Things were about to heat up and he knew that all he could do was what was asked of him. He would leave the politics of the club to Clay and Jax, and hope that they could find a way to work together.

_**Authors Notes:**_ Well this was the last real 'set-up' chapter. Things start to pick up in the next part. I hope that you all enjoyed this Happy-heavy chapter. Please feel free to let me know what you think about that story; I love to get feedback from readers.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Authors Notes:**_ Thank you again for all those who have read and reviewed and have added this story to their list. I'm glad that you all are enjoying the story as much as I am writing it.

Again, there is a link on my profile page of pictures of the new OC's. Please take the time to check them out if you would like to put a face to the name. I know it helps me when I'm writing, and I know for some readers, it helps you picture the scenes better.

I hope that you all enjoy this new chapter.

**Killer Instinct**

**Chapter Three**

Over the decades, there have been several incarnations of the popular saying, '_the eyes are the windows to one's true self,_' or to '_one's soul_'. It was something that Sofia believed true not only of humans, but also of her furry patients that had found themselves in her care.

It was critical for her to understand what every gleam in their eyes meant, it was the only way that they were able to truly communicate with her. They had no way of telling her that they were scared or in pain, their only means of communication was a combination of small whimpers and whines, or soft wiggles of their tails if they were able.

So as she was kneeling down in front of one of the many clean kennels that held a recovering dog, Sofia found herself looking into the dark eyes of a large brindle Akita Inu. His eyes where such a dark brown that they almost appeared to be black. He simply looked back at her, not bothering to stand up from his position where he had been laying down. His head lifted off his front paws, but other than that he made no movement to even sit up. She could tell that he was trying to study her just as much as she was him. He had been one of the many dogs that had been seized from Jose Mendoza and was now in her care. Out of all the dogs that they had brought in, this one had stood out among the rest.

Once she looked over the poor conditions that he had been found in, it was easy for her to tell that he was a perfect example of his breed. His coloring was of soft grays and white, in a brindle that made him look almost like a white tiger in dog form, in the dog community he would be referred to as a blue brindle. His snout was clean and white, telling her that he wasn't of the American breed who allowed black on their faces. It was a rare sight to see a full blooded Japanese Akita Inu in the US. The only explanations she could think of were that either the owner brought him over, or someone had paid a large amount of money to ship the Akita across the ocean. However, neither explained how this beautiful animal could have found himself in a dog fighting ring.

She had never had an Akita in her care before, but she knew what the breed was like and what to expect from him. It was that knowledge that helped her make the decision that she would be the main care giver for him while he was staying in her shelter. Her clinic and shelter, 'Second Chance', was located in Oakland so she saw mostly Labrador Retrievers, German Shepherds and a few different types of Bulls dogs and Terriers, along with many different breeds of cats and even a few rabbits on occasion. So she knew that her staff wasn't trained enough to handle the Japanese Akita.

It wasn't that he had shown aggression towards anyone, but the breed was very complex and hard to understand. Each dog was his own, so it was hard to pinpoint how he would react to different situations, something she didn't want her staff to deal with. She had enough to worry about trying to keep as many of the dogs off the _'to be euthanized'_ list, she didn't want to have to put down a beautiful dog because he lashed out when it could have been prevented.

Akitas by nature were very strong willed, intelligent, and loyal. Back when she was still in school, learning about all the different breeds, she had come across a true story about an Akita named Hachiko, who had waited daily at a train station for nine years for his deceased master to return home. It was Hachiko's story of faithfulness and loyalty that had made the breed popular, bringing it back from the brink of extinction

However due to their intelligence, they bored easily and it took more work on the owner's part to keep them busy. An owner of an Akita would also have to show that they were the alpha male and pack leader, or the dog would take over and show uncontrollable aggression. Their natural need to protect and defend their territory was a blessing and a curse. If trained by a strong and firm, yet loving owner, an Akita would be able to asses a situation and then react appropriately the way he was trained to. They are observant more so than other breeds and are very protective of their families. They made great family dogs, if trained right from an early age, and wouldn't hesitate to attack an outsider should they get to close to the family.

However it wasn't the loyalty or sheer intelligence that had landed this dog in a fighting ring. It was the breed's aggression and natural hunting nature that many who fought dogs looked for when looking and scouting for a new attack dog. Akitas were also silent, rarely barked, choosing to track and sneak up on their prey, rather than announce that they were on the prowl. Another less known fact about the breed was their powerful jaws. Their ability to lock their jaws onto their prey made them perfect for hunting larger game, such as wild boar and Asian black bear. Only when their prey was dead, or their owner told them, would they release and unlock their jaws.

Everything about the Akita spoke to Sofia, and she couldn't help but admire the breed for what it was. Perfect. They were smarter than most other breeds and powerful, but they were also willing to show love and protect those who showed them respect.

Taking one last look at him, Sofia stood up and then wiped some hair out of her face that had fallen free from its clip. Reaching out with her other hand she took the chart out of the holder on the side of the kennel and looked it over. All the while she could feel the dog still looking at her, watching her and her every move.

It had been three weeks since he and the others had been brought in, and it had been enough time to allow him to gain back his strength and what weight he had lost. He was a younger dog, only around one year old, so she was hoping that he would be able to be retained. If he had held onto anything that he had seen or been taught, showing too much aggression, then she would be forced to put him down.

Biting her lip as she read all his tests that came back clean, Sofia debated what she wanted to do with him today. There were no longer any signs of infection, and he had been taken off the pain medication days ago, so there was no reason to keep in locked up inside the kennel to heal. Even with him being in the largest sized kennel she had, she knew that it would feel good for him to get out and really stretch out his legs. This would be the perfect time to evaluate him, and see how much work she really had cut out for her.

Jose Mendoza may have gotten off clean, but the dogs would remain in her care until they could be adopted. It was her job, and that of her staff, to make sure that each and every dog got the best chance at a second life. She had five dogs still alive, three of them being only puppies. She knew that it wouldn't take much to get them adopted, everyone loved little puppies, wiggles and all. It was going to be harder with the Akita and the other dog, a three year old blond Bullmastiff.

Placing the file back in its place, she turned and walked down the aisle a bit more, passing other dogs that would jump up and bark trying to get her attention as she passed. It was a slow day at the clinic, and she didn't have any other appointments set for the rest of the day, so she would have time to work with the Akita and see how damaged he really was.

Walking into her office, she sat down behind her desk and took off her tennis shoes and replaced them with her old worn out cowboy boots, tucking her jeans inside so they wouldn't get to dirty. There was a small gated area in the back that they had come to call 'The Park' where they exercised the dogs and gave them a chance to play. Even though there was grass, she felt better when she had her boots on. She didn't mind if they got dirty or if she happened to step into a doggy bomb while out walking and playing with the dogs. She just didn't want to drag all those smells back home with her when she left.

A sold knock on her open door forced her to look up while she placed her clean shoes under her desk and out of the way.

"Hey Doc, you about to go play some ball with the boys?" Mark asked as he stood in her door way, his voice booming off the walls. Mark was one of the only members of her staff that she saw as more than just an employee. The large African American man, who stood at six foot five, was a long time friend and someone who she held a large amount of trust in. He was also the only male large enough, and strong enough, to help her deal with some of the larger breeds. He was also an expert shot with the tranquilizer gun should the occasion call for it.

"Yeah, thought that I would take the Akita out, see how his back leg is doing." She said standing up and taking off her white overcoat. There was no need to have it on while out with the dogs. It was a nice day outside, and she would rather be comfortable in her light blue polo style short sleeve shirt then loaded down with an extra layer.

Once she placed the 'doctor' coat over the back of her chair, she looked up and saw the hard look on Mark's face. "Sure that's a good idea?" He asked as he pushed himself off the door frame. "He may be a puppy in years, but he still has a solid seventy five pounds on him."

She couldn't help but smile at his concern, Mark had always looked out for her. "That is true, but the longer we keep him locked up, the more likely he will become too aggressive and it's going to be harder to work with him then." Sofia said as she walked out the door and down the hall headed to the shelter once again.

Turning around to lean her back against the door, she saw Mark stop and open the gun cabinet. She only shook her head as she saw him pull out a tranquilizer rifle and some darts. She knew that he wouldn't hesitate to shoot the dog should he show any aggression towards her while she was in 'The Park' with him. That was another reason she loved having Mark around, she knew that whenever he was nearby, he was watching her back for her, so that she could do what she needed to.

Grabbing one of the many nylon leashes that hung on the side wall, she walked back past all the happy and jumping dogs, laughing and talking to them in a kind voice. "It's not your turn. You'll have to wait a bit longer." She said as she approached the last kennel. Stopping right in front of the pen, she reached out to the latch, keeping her eyes on the dog that was held inside the whole time. "You're going to be a good boy, and not jump out at me aren't you?" She asked in a calm voice, making sure to keep her tone soft yet firm. "I'm going to open the gate, and place a leash on you, once we get outside, I'll let you run around some." She found that it was calming to both herself and the dogs when she talked to them. Most the time they didn't have any clue as to what she was saying, but there were those who knew that word 'outside', and they seemed to understand what was going to happen.

The Akita was no exception. Once she said that they were going to go out, he got to his feet, standing at his full height of two and a half feet. He stood still, waiting for her to open the gate of the kennel, and without another thought, Sofia pulled the latch and opened the kennel. To her surprise, the Akita didn't make a move to dart out, but allowed her to fully open the door. Once the gate was all the way open, she reached in with her right hand to take a hold of the collar that was around his neck.

She reached in with confidence, knowing that it was true that dogs and other animals really could smell fear. This wasn't the first time that she had to reach in a kennel that held a possible dangerous dog, and she had her fair share of bites. With the collar in hand she moved it around in order to find the ring to clip the leash on. So far, so good.

Kneeling down a bit, she brought the leash closer and was about to clip it in place, when a deep growl from the Akita stopped her. She held her own, not moving forward, but not willing to move back either. It had been a warning from the dog, letting her know that he didn't want to be leashed. "You either get the leash, or you don't get to go outside." Sofia told him while she looked him in the eyes.

Some of her staff thought that it was odd that she would talk to the dogs and even some cats like they could really understand her, but it never stopped her.

The growl kept vibrating forth, but it was steady, not gaining in volume or force. Taking that as a good sign she preceded to clip the leash onto the ring. Once the leash was in place, she stood up and backed up, allowing the dog room to walk out of the kennel.

She let some of the slack go on the leash, and allowed the dog some time to walk around outside in the hall, then began to walk towards the door that lead outside. Turning around, trying not to get tied up in the leash, she saw that Mark was behind her, but keeping his distance. He understood that it was important to give the dogs room; there was no need to make them feel closed in.

Once outside she unhooked the leash and allowed the Akita to roam around. She heard Mark open the door and step out beside her.

"He looks like he's walking pretty well. No limp." He said as they both watched the young dog walking around the grassy area. He would stop every now and then to sniff the ground and the mark his territory. His strides were strong and solid, no sign of his injuries or his poor health appeared as he wandered around the yard.

"Now we just have to wait and see how he'll do around others." Sofia said while she kept her eyes on the dog. He walked over to a large bowl that they had set out full of water, and took a long drink. It was warm today, but not hot being only in the high seventies, but she knew that the Akita was more comfortable in colder weather.

"What are we going to name him?" Mark asked. "Can't really keep calling him 'dog' or 'the Akita'." He added.

"What about Blue?" Sofia said as the name popped into her head. It seemed right thinking about it, he was a blue brindle, so the name fit him.

"Sure why not." Mark agreed. "Blue!" He called out to the dog to see if he would react to it. They both laughed when the Akita turned and looked at them when the name was called out. "Looks like he's alright with the new name."

Sofia could only nod as she continued to watch Blue walking around the yard. They stayed out for a few more minutes, glad to see that there didn't seem to be any long lasting problems. Calling him over, Sofia reattached the leash, glad that there was no growling this time around, and Mark turned to hold open the door for them.

"Looks like I didn't need this after all." Mark said holding up the tranq gun.

"Ye of little faith." Sofia said with a smile as she walked Blue back into the shelter.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to be right behind you, just going to refill the water." Mark said as he let go of the door.

Sofia nodded and then looked down to Blue, who was panting lightly. They walked down the hall, and come up on his kennel, right as she was about to lean over and open the latch, the door at the far end of the hall opened, and in walked one of her techs with another dog. She felt a strong pull on the leash and knew that Blue had also seen the other dog.

He wasn't barking, true to his breed, but he was making it hard to control him. "Mark!" Sofia called out, hoping that her large friend was back from filling up the water. She knew what she was able to handle, and as much as she hated to admit it, Blue was quickly becoming too strong for her.

"Kendall, take the other dog out!" Sofia called out to the tech. She knew that if Mark didn't get here in time and she lost her hold on Blue that he would go right for the other dog, and wouldn't care anything about the young woman who was walking it.

Kendall, a cute blond college student, saw what was going on and shouted out that she was sorry and was trying to get the other dog out of the hallway, and back through the other door. It was quite easy, seeing as how the other dog was scared and curling its tail between its legs.

Just as the far door closed shut behind her tech and the other dog, Mark rushed up and took over the leash, keeping Blue back. Letting out a sigh of relief, Sofia opened up his kennel, and then moved out of the way to let Mark use his large mass to get the dog back into his gate. Once he was inside, Sofia reached in and quickly tried to unlatch the leash.

She had just about had her hand on the clip when she felt a hot, strong pressure bite through her arm. Knowing the screaming out wouldn't help release her arm from the death grip the dog had on her right arm; she did what she could to keep him from ripping her arm out of its socket. Quickly reaching in with her free arm, she did her best to grab onto Blue's neck, hoping to keep him from jerking his head around and treating her arm, which was still attached to the rest of her, as a rag doll.

"Fuck!" Mark called out and then acted fast as he pulled up the gun and took aim. He didn't waste any time in shooting the dog, and once the dart was imbedded into its target, Mark reached down and took a hold of his muzzle, gripping his jaws open so that Sofia could pull her arm out. It wasn't long after she removed her arm that Blue relaxed and fell to the kennel floor, passed out, due to the strong drugs that had been in the dart.

Sofia pulled her injured arm close to her, holding it tight, as she fell backward onto her bottom. She could feel the burning pain of the ripped skin and didn't have to look down to know that she was bleeding heavily. It wasn't the first time that she had been bitten, but this one would pass as her worst. Taking a deep breath she glanced down and saw nothing but mangled skin and tissue, bruising already darkening her skin around the wound.

"Shit Doc." Mark said as he took out a bandanna from his back pocket. It wasn't the most sanitary of bandages, but it would due till they were able to get her to the hospital. Sure they had better medical supplies in the clinic, but she didn't want to bleed all over the place, and she knew that Mark wasn't about to let her walk without something to help stop the bleeding. She allowed him to pull her arm out and away from her body so that he could wrap it up. Turning her head to the side, she kept quiet. Sofia bit her tongue to keep from screaming out at the pressure that Mark was applying to her wounded arm. She knew it was needed, there was no other way to stop the bleeding.

"Well," She started to say through her clenched teeth. "We know he doesn't like other dogs." She joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Really?" Mark responded sarcastically. "What gave that away, the fact that he was trying to chew your arm off?"

"It could have been worse, he could have broke the leash." She said holding up the leash and showing him where it was ripping from the strain that had been placed on it. "I'll have to use the chain leash next time." She added more to herself.

"There isn't going to be a next time." Mark said as he tied off the makeshift bandage. He saw the hard look on her face and knew what she was thinking. "I didn't say he was a lost cause, but you aren't taking him out alone again."

Sofia knew that he was right; there was no way that she would be able to handle him by herself. "We can talk about our game plan for training him later. Right now we need to get you to the hospital to make sure he didn't do any major damage." Mark spoke to her. He got up from his kneeling position on the floor in front of her, and moved to reach down and help lift her up.

The trip to the hospital had all been a blur to her. Once they got her in, they had started to pump her full of pain killers and drugs, running whatever test they needed. Mark had waited out in the waiting room the whole time.

It didn't take long for them to get her in and then fix her up. Nothing was broken, and other than the large bite marks that had been closed with the aid of twenty stitches total, the doctor told her that she should have no problem recovering. After he gave her the download on what she could and shouldn't do until she was healed up, he wrote her out two prescriptions and sent her on her way.

Readjusting the shoulder strap of her arm sling to keep it from digging into her neck, she held onto the small pieces of paper and headed out to find Mark.

As soon as he saw her, he popped out of the chair he was sitting in, and walked up to her, eyeing the sling the whole time. "It's not as bad as it looks." She said knowing that he was thinking the worst. "He just tore me up pretty good. Nothing a few stitches couldn't fix." She added with a smile.

"You're way too calm about this." Mark said with a hard look.

"Mark, really I'm fine." Sofia said as she placed her good arm in his large one, pulling him closer to the door. "Now, let's get out of here, and go see if Blue has calmed down any."

"No. I'm taking you home." He answered back. "You need to rest."

"Hey, I'm still your boss." Sofia said looking up to him. "I'll be fine. I just need to make sure that Blue is alright, and to let everyone else know that they aren't to go near him without you or me there."

"Already done. I called them while you where back there. Told Kendall that it wasn't her fault. Poor girl was crying thinking that it was her fault that you got bit." Mark said with a shake of his head.

"All the more I need to go back and show them that I'm alright." Sofia added.

"Fine." Mark conceded. "But you aren't to handle any more dogs tonight."

"Deal." She said as she rested her head on his shoulder as they continued to walk to this large truck. "How is Delores doing?" She asked as they neared the Dodge.

"She is doing good. Getting those cravings like mad. Had me go out last night to get her some ice cream, even though we have a freezer full, we didn't have the 'right' kind." Mark said with a smile. Sofia knew that he was more than happy to go out and get something for his six month pregnant wife, no matter what she sent him out for, or at what time.

With a smile, Sofia allowed Mark to unlock the door, and then help her up into the high lifted cab. Soon they were back on the road, stopping only to fill her prescriptions. Mark had offered to run in and get them for her, but she declined the offer, saying that there was nothing wrong with her feet.

Sitting in an old waiting chair while the pharmacy filled her order, she couldn't help but look out the large window. She was content with simply watching the leaves on the trees blowing lightly in the soft breeze, but her attention, and that of everyone else in the small drug store, was cut short at the sound of rolling thunder.

She knew enough to know that it wasn't actual thunder. The clear skies and bright afternoon sun was enough to tell her that it wasn't Mother Nature who was causing the loud and growing rumble. The glass windows shook with vibration as a large group of Latin bikers rode by the drug store on Harleys, with their trademark ape-hanger handlebars. The motorcycles roared and growled like ferocious wild animals as they passed by.

It wasn't an everyday occurrence that she saw the Mayans ride through town, but she had lived most of her adult life in Oakland and knew who they were, and would see them around town from time to time. For the most part she didn't have an opinion on them one way or another.

Sure she heard what the town had to say about them, that they where into drugs and guns, and wouldn't hesitate to 'deal' with anyone who would get in there way. She also heard the talks about how ruthless they were, and that they weren't to be trusted. But in her mind she could understand them to a point.

She had lived her whole life studying animals, even as a young child. Some would live solitary lives, like large cats and other predators. Dogs and wolves on the other hand would stay together in packs, families. They would live together, hunt as a well trained force, and protect each other from an outside attack.

In human society it was a less common occurrence but packs could be found. Clubs, gangs, and MC's were all forms of packs. They all had a leader instead of an alpha, and they had some form of command hierarchy. In her eyes it was the most basic and raw form of a community, everyone had a part to play.

Who was she to judge who they were, and how they chose to live their lives. She may not agree with their means of income, but she wasn't about to walk up to them and say so. She knew enough to know that in order to live in peace with them, meant leaving them alone.

She never went out of her way to avoid them, and on the rare times that they had crossed paths, she had held her head high, and had treated them with respect. _She_ had no reason to fear them.

"Miss Reagan, your order is ready." The Pharmacist called out to her from behind the counter.

Getting up she paid for her order and signed the log. "Thank you." She said with a smile then headed out to meet up with Mark. She would be glad to get back to the clinic and get some more work done.

_**Authors Notes:**_ Alright, this chapter was a bit longer than I thought it would be, and the next one is going to be coming out soon! And yes, there is going to be some more Happy in the next chapter. This was the last chapter that I needed to get out before everything happens. Thank you again for all who have read and reviewed, I love hearing what you all think about the story so far.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Authors Notes:**_ Here we are with another chapter. I would like to take a minute to shout out to everyone who has reviewed, added this story to their alert list, and even placed it on their favorites list already, AbbyRose17, Amyvedamarie, Amanda1980, burpie, catus, DeirdrelLaelia, demonicseer, Flaca514, HappysHitwoman, Heather Rena', IKnowHowToSay, inkdeep, jessy123, Just Go Moo, kmcracerx, L'Amaryllis, Meg Peirrer, msgemgem, Samantha Carol, seetherfan77, ShiloCoulter, Sky-07, Slytherin Studios, Softball Angel, Stephanie is Amazzzing, The Turn Coat, tkmcgilbra, v., Wicked in Boston, China2009, ThisLife 103.7, Dutch'76, belizeancharms, CharChar93, Fan of the Fiction, Hey Francesca, historylover27, reita189, Fall-Back-Down, and Slash95. I'm sorry if I left anyone out, or if I misspelled anyone's names, I hope that you will forgive me.

Also there is another much more in-depth, author's note that can be found on my profile page, along with character pictures.

I would also like to thank Kaylalong once again for being the best Beta that a writer could ask for. Even with her crazy life she found time to get this back to me, and made sure that I didn't slack off!

**Killer Instinct**

**Chapter Four**

Things were going according to plan, but the night was still young, something could still go wrong and that was enough to keep Happy at the top of his game. Sitting behind the steering wheel of the parked black van, the one that the Sons used when they didn't want to ride in on their loud motorcycles, Happy kept one eye on the empty road ahead of him and the other on the side mirror.

"Anything?" Happy asked without turning his head to the back where Juice was set up, his rough voice cutting through the silence within the van.

"Nothing." The younger member replied, the soft clicks of his fingers gliding over the keys of his laptop echoing him.

'_Shit'_ Happy thought as he gripped the steering wheel with one of his gloved hands. They had been sitting on the side of an old dirt road for the last three hours hoping that they would get lucky and find what the Mayans were up to. There were a few warehouses that they knew of, that their Latino friends used as gathering places to discuss their _'business'_. They had already checked out one earlier, not finding anything that would tell them what they were looking for, but they had been able to leave a few bugs behind in case they showed up later.

Happy had to hand it to the younger man, who was hunched over his computer in the back of the van, Juice knew what he was doing, and it didn't take him long at all to place wires in the warehouse. He had told Happy that just because they weren't able to gain any information from this mission right away, didn't mean that it wouldn't bear any fruit later down the line.

He had shown Happy that he was thinking smart, and making sure that they used their time in Oakland as best they could. It also crossed Happy's mind that this may give them more of an insight into their enemy than ever before. Having eyes and ears inside their hideouts was a great way to keep one step ahead of them. The problem was, most of their conversations would probably be in Spanish, and no one in SAMCRO spoke or understood a lick.

There had been many reasons they hadn't been able to do something like this in the past. With trying to keep the ATF off their backs, and dealing with everything else that led up to their time locked up, they had little time to dedicate to spying on their enemies. Money had been the other hold back. Juice's shit wasn't cheap, but his young brother had fought to prove his case to both Clay and Bobby, showing that it would benefit the club to have the equipment on hand.

"Should we wire this one too?" Juice asked as he leaned back from his laptop. "I still have four bugs left. We can place two in here then save two for the last location."

Thinking over what their next course of action should be, Happy thought that it would be nice to have all the places tapped. "Yeah. In and out like before." He said reaching over and grabbing his equipment from the passenger seat.

They had left their cuts back at the clubhouse, not wanting to announce who they were should they run into any unfriendlies. With his Kevlar vest already on under his dark blue hoodie, and his gloves still covering his hands, he reached over and picked up his Glocks and face mask. He never liked wearing the damn thing, but he knew that just because he wasn't wearing his cut, didn't mean that no one would recognize him. Clay had been very clear to both him and Juice that they weren't to let anyone know that it was them creeping around. If word got out that Sons where sneaking around Oakland under the cover of night that would be enough for the Mayans to take up arms against them.

Before opening his door to step out of the van, Happy grabbed his pre-paid phone and called Tig who was waiting with a few other guys close to the edge of town should anything happen and they need back up. He held the phone close to his ear and waited for the SAA to pick up.

"_Yeah?"_ Tig's voice asked over the other side of the line. _"What's up?"_

"Aint any movement at this site. Gonna go in and place a few more bugs. Should be out in ten." He relayed.

"_Alright."_ Tig answered. _"If we don't hear back from you in ten…"_ He left off.

"Yeah." Happy replied knowing full well that if he didn't call him back in ten minutes, Tig would charge in with the cavalry. If it was one thing that Happy appreciated about Tig, it was that he would stop at nothing to protect his brothers and make sure that they got back home. It must have been something that was ingrained into his brother while he had spent time in the Marines. Like they say, 'Once a Marine, Always a Marine'.

Hanging up the phone, and turning the phone to 'silent', he turned to see Juice was all set, with his bag of supplies slung over his shoulder.

"Ready?" Happy asked as he gripped the door handle.

"Yeah, let's get this done." Juice said as he pulled the side door open, and hopped out.

Once they were both out of the van, they took a minute to pull on their black ski masks over their heads, and check the safeties off their guns. With a nod of his head, Happy turned to take point and make sure that the coast was clear. His job was to make sure that they got in and out, and to make sure that nothing happened to Juice. He would be damned if he let anyone get the drop on him.

_**SOA**_

It was late, far past closing time, but Sofia was still looking over her files from earlier that day and ones for the next. Looking over at her small desk clock she saw that it was reaching almost one in the morning. Sitting up away from where she had been leaning over the files, she rested back in her chair, closing her eyes and rubbing them.

The past month had been a busy one for her, and she was starting to get use to the lack of quality sleep. At first, it had started with dealing with the dogs from the fighting ring, then working with the prosecutor on the case. However when the case was closed, Mr. Mathews – the young prosecutor – had been able to go home and take some time off to recover from the trial.

Sofia didn't have the luxury of taking time off, she had too much work to do, and only a short window in order to get it all done. When working with damaged animals it was best to start the recovery process as soon as possible. It wasn't the first time that she had to pull an all nighter and she knew that it wouldn't be the last. She was dedicated to her work one hundred percent, and was more than willing to stay at the clinic rather than in her lonely house. At least in the clinic she had the dogs to keep her company.

The throbbing pain in her arm pulled her out of her thoughts and back to reality, telling her that she had missed her dose of pain medication. Once Mark had brought her back to the clinic and she had told everyone that she was fine and still had full use of her arm, even though it was going to be in a sling for a few days, she had told everyone to finish up and go home early. Mark had offered to stay with her for a while, not wanting to leave in case she needed anything. However she reminded him of his very pregnant wife who was at home, waiting for him to return. After promising to call him should she need him for anything, did he finally leave to make his way home.

At that time, she had felt pretty good. The pain medication that they had given to her at the hospital was still working its magic, dulling any pain that she would feel otherwise. The sling that the doctor had told her to wear for the next couple of days had long ago been removed, the shoulder strap digging into her neck. She knew that he had only given her the sling to keep her arm relaxed and to remind herself not to overdo it. She knew the importance of following the doctor's orders, but something like this was just precautionary, since most people would push their injured bodies beyond their capacity. However, since Sofia was simply sitting at her desk, she didn't see the harm in removing the sling to give her neck and shoulder a break.

Another pinch of pain shot through her arm and she knew that she needed to take something to ease it, or she wouldn't be able to drive home. So reaching over and opening her desk draw, she pulled out the small white pharmacy paper bag and ripped it open were it had been stapled close. Reading over the doses and making sure that she followed the directions, she got up to walk to the break room where they kept a small refrigerator.

She knew that it wasn't wise to take anything on an empty stomach, so she would take a break and get something to eat, let the drugs work their magic and then go check on the dogs, before she called it a night and headed home. She knew that she needed to catch as much sleep as she could before the clinic opened in the morning. From the files that where pulled, she was going to have a full day ahead of her.

She was about to reach the break room, when she heard the dogs begin to bark. _'Odd'_ She thought to herself as she drew her eyebrows together. Sure they had barked at night in the past, but it was always caused by something. A siren of a passing police car or fire truck, a horn of an upset driver, or on the rare occasion, thunder when there would be a bad storm.

However, there were no sirens, horns or thunder booming across the night sky. Standing up straight she placed her prescription bottles into her coat pocket and headed for the door. Walking down the hallway that led to the shelter was quite and she could hear the dogs barking get louder the closer she got. Almost to the door that would lead her to the shelter, she heard a bang of the back exit door.

A panic wave of fear ripped through her at the sound.

They always kept that door locked and only used it when the hazard crew would come to pick up the euthanized animals. It led to the back alley behind the building, there wasn't anything else out there but woods. A few warehouses where at the very far end of the lot, but she wasn't sure what they were used for.

Hearing the banging sound again, she fought a wave of fear run through her. There were only a few possibilities on who would try to gain entrance into the clinic this late at night. Thieves, wanting to steal any medical equipment and sell it on the black market, dealers, who would be looking for all the drugs hoping to gain a quick high and maybe make a profit off what was left, or those who were behind the fighting ring trying to get the dogs back.

Taking a deep breath, Sofia thought quickly about what she should do. Hearing the banging again she leaned down so that whoever was beating down the door couldn't see her through the glass window. She knew that the heavy wooden door wasn't going to last much longer. Whoever was trying to get in would succeed within the next few attempts. The fight or flight response that most people felt when faced with a situation like this was pulsing in her, but she wasn't about to run away and hide, this was her clinic and her life's work.

Sitting down in the hallway she looked up and saw the tranquilizer cabinet. It would have to work, at least it would knock out whoever was trying to get in long enough for her to call the police. She just hoped that it wasn't a large group of them. She could handle one or two, any more than that and she knew she would be in trouble. With her plan set, she got up and made her way over to the case. She opened it and pulled the gun out just as she heard the loud bang of the door opening. Reaching in, she grabbed as many darts as she could and placed them in her side pocket.

Taking a deep breath, telling herself that she could do this, that she had to do this, she loaded up a dart and brought the rifle up. She would shoot the first thing that came through the door.

_**SOA**_

It had been too easy and he knew it. They had gotten into the warehouse, and had just finished placing the last wire when they heard the loud telltale rumble of engines outside, coming down the road. Happy could tell from the sound alone that they would be out numbered, and that the chances of making it back to the van without being seen where slim.

He had told Juice without words to hurry up and get his shit together. He kept his ears on the approaching threat, while also keeping tabs on Juice, who was quickly placing everything back into his pack. The adrenaline he felt at the possibility of getting caught was nothing new to him, but Happy was a man who knew that it wouldn't end well for them if Alvarez and his crew were to find them in _their_ warehouse. He knew that if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn't hesitate to kill on sight.

Hearing the roar of the engines get closer, Happy grabbed Juice by the collar of his neck and dragged him back to the far end of the warehouse and into the cover of the shadows. Looking around he saw a back door, and knew that it was their only way out. Getting Juice attention, he pointed to the door, mouthing the word 'Go'. Keeping his back to his brother, Happy raised his gun and kept his eyes and ears open.

Looking back to check on Juice, he saw that he was already to the door and opening it. Backing up, Happy kept his gun and eyes on the front of the warehouse, as he neared the door to make his own exit. Just as he stepped out of the door, he could make out the loud sound of the large bay doors opening. The echoing sound of the motorcycles as they entered the warehouse was enough cover needed for him to close the door without fear of it being heard. Looking over to see Juice as he was leaning against the side of the building, he nodded to confirm that they were in the clear, for the moment.

It wasn't long before they heard the loud rumbling die down as the bikes being turned off. Everything was muffled due to the distance and the fact that they were outside, but they could both clearly hear the voices within. Happy couldn't make out what they were saying, but it didn't take long to understand that they were all more than a little drunk. He could hear the sexy slur of female voices and hoped that they would be to drunk and busy fucking their Mexican pussy to notice the two Sons.

"Shit." He heard Juice curse under his breath as they realized that although they got out without being caught, they were still in a high level danger zone and had to keep moving. Just because they hadn't been seen by anyone inside, didn't mean that there wasn't anyone outside trying to get away from the loud party that was starting to get underway inside.

Looking around to see that they were standing in an open alley behind the warehouse, Happy cursed silently to himself, _'Fuck'_. There was no place to hide for cover out here. If someone came walking around the corner they would be seen, or shot on sight. Seeing the large chain link fence, Happy knew that they needed to get to the other side of it. The woods that lay beyond it would offer them enough cover to make it back to the van and head back to safer ground. There was no way that they could take the same route they had in getting to the warehouse, to get back to the van. That would take them to the front of the building, and the risk of them being caught would be too great.

Slapping Juice with the back of his hand on his chest, he nodded his head to the fence. "We need to get over it." He said keeping his voice low.

Understanding what Happy was saying, they both looked around and were about to start climbing it when Juice pointed over to a low part in the fence. There it was already cut and pulled back some, if they were careful they would be able to slide underneath without anyone knowing they were ever there.

They wasted no time and began to pull the damaged part of the fence back to make more room. They would have to fix it once they made it to the other side, but it would be better than climbing over and risking the fall on the other side.

Placing his gun safely away inside his sweatshirt, Happy got down low to the ground and crawled his way under the opening, using his arms to pull him through. Once on the other side, he kept himself low and reached to pull the bag the Juice was feeding through. They couldn't afford to lose what equipment they had left now. If the Mayans found the case with the remaining bugs inside, they would know that someone had been there.

Taking a deep breath to control his heart rate, Happy looked over to make sure that they were still good and in the clear. Juice was about to make his way under the fence when they both heard the back door open.

"Move!" Happy ordered as low as he could. Even though it was night time, the moon bright enough to offer some visibility. He kept his eyes on the door as two people stumbled out, one was a Mayan, he was easy to make out, and the other was a very drunk woman, probably a hooker. Neither had spotted the two Sons, it seemed like they were more focused on each other at the moment, but they were still far too close for Happy's liking.

"Hurry it up." He said low as he looked down to see that Juice was half way through.

"I'm trying man, I think I'm stuck." Juice said, and Happy knew that he wouldn't joke about something at a time like this. Looking down, Happy saw what the problem was. The bottom part of Juice's sweatshirt was snagged on a part of the fence.

"Hold still." Happy said, and then reached down to get his bowie knife from the sheath tied to his leg. Removing it, Happy reached forward and started to cut away a part of his clothing that was caught.

Looking back over to the couple, Happy saw that they had begun to rub up one each other, clearly dry humping. As much as he loved a good show, he wasn't about to stick around to see the two get it on. Pulling his attention back to the task at hand, Happy took a hold of the fence to try and speed things up.

The combination of holding the chain link fence, cutting Juice free of it, and the back and forth monition of his knife was just enough to start the fence to vibrate, and rattle.

"Shit man hurry up!" Juice told Happy, trying to keep his voice low, but his panic was obvious.

Looking back over to the couple, Happy cursed when he saw that the Mayan had stopped his fondling of his companion, and began to look around. He could tell that he had heard the fence rattle. Happy could hear him saying something in Spanish, but couldn't make it out.

They were running out of time. Happy put his knife away quickly and then placed his arms around Juice. He was going to have to pull him free and hope that whatever he had been able to cut through would be able tear free. With one solid jerk, Happy pulled Juice free, but not before Juice let out a loud pain filled cry. Looking up, Happy saw the Mexican biker quickly send the girl back inside and pull out his side arm. Happy didn't have to understand the words he was shouting to understand that he was calling out to his wetback brothers who where inside still.

"Come on we gotta go!" Happy said as he pulled up Juice from the ground and snatched up his bag. Looking over to Juice he could see where the fence had cut into his side, right below the Kevlar vest, while he had pulled him through. He couldn't tell how bad it was in the poor lighting, but he knew that it was causing his brother pain. Happy had seen Juice stabbed in the back, beaten and his cut taken away, and in his fair share of fights, and all the time with a smile on his face. But with one look, Happy could see that there wasn't a smile present this time.

Leaning over, he took one of Juice's arms and placed it over his shoulder. They weren't going to be able to make it to the van as he had hoped. The van had been all the way on the other side of the warehouse, it would take too long and they would need to back track in order to get to it. Looking around to get his bearings, he saw that there were some other buildings on the other side of the tree line. Hoping that there would be some place to lay low and patch Juice up, Happy started to move forward. The shouting behind him only fueled his energy and kept him moving.

He knew that they had little time to spare, it was going to take their pursuers a while to get on this side of the fence, but it was still too close for comfort. He could hear Juice groaning as he pulled him along, and knew that he was trying to deal with the pain as best he could as well with keeping quiet. Moving around trees, bushes, and loose branches that had fallen, was making it hard to cover ground. But he wasn't about to leave his brother behind. As soon as he found a place to patch him up, he would call Tig and fill him in. Hopefully they would be able to pick up the van, and then come get them.

"It fucking hurts man." Juice said low, knowing that they needed to keep moving.

Happy didn't say anything, just kept moving. Looking around he saw a building come into view through the tree line. He could make out the words 'Clinic' and 'Shelter' in the fading paint job, and knew that it would be the best place to hide out and to find something to stop Juice's bleeding.

By the time they made it past the tree line, Happy was pulling most of Juice weight, his feet unable to keep up with them as they dragged behind them. "Hold on." He told Juice.

Seeing a back door, Happy made his way over and set Juice down next to the wall. He could hear the barking of dogs from within the building, but that wasn't enough to turn him away. The soft glow from the porch light offered Happy enough visibility to see that Juice was losing color. "Fuck." He said as he stood up and took a step back. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his leg and straight kicked the door with his heavy booted foot. He knew that it had a heavy deadbolt lock, but other than that it was made of wood, and wood could be busted down. His brother was in need of help, and he wasn't going to be stopped by some wooden door, or barking dogs. He wouldn't hesitate to shoot anyone, or anything that got in his way.

Again and again he kicked at the door till he heard the lock bust out of the door's frame. Without wasting any time he took Juice and picked him up using the fireman's carry. Grabbing the bag once again, not wanting to lose it now, Happy made his way inside and was surprised to see the lights on. With Juice still over his shoulder, he was able to reach for his Glock, and pulled it free, clicking the safety off as he held it firmly in his grip.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. Turning and holding up his gun level with his eyes, he saw a shadow move once again, this time he was able to make out the shape of a small body. But it was the shape of the rifle in the hands of that shadow that made him squeeze back on his trigger.

_**Authors Notes:**_ That's it for this chapter! I hope that you all enjoyed the read, and I can't wait to hear what you all think about it.

Thank you again for reading it, and know that the next one is already in the works!


	5. Chapter 5

_**Authors Notes: **_Sorry that this chapter took so long to get out. Not only do I have a lot going on in my life, but this is the first chapter of a very important part of the story, so I needed to take the time to make sure that it turned out perfect.

Also, Kaylalong who is normally my Beta reader is out on vacation so I had someone else look this chapter over. I apologize if the chapter has a different feel to it. (Thank you to my wonderful husband who took the time to look this over!)

Thank you again to those who reviewed the last chapter, it's reassuring to know that you all are enjoying the story so far.

_**Killer Instinct**_

_**Chapter Five**_

Scary, adrenaline pumping situations were nothing new to Sofia and she was wise enough to know that there would be more before her life was over, whenever that may be. However it had been some time since she felt this level of fear, the shattered window glass that was raining down on her forced her to recall the events in her past.

The first time she ever felt the cold, yet burning fingers of terror, she had only been five years old and just learning how to ride a bicycle. Her father had let go of the back of her seat as many fathers did when their child wasn't looking, to teach them to hold up the bike themselves and keep it straight. Sofia had been positive that without his protective grasp she would lose control of the two wheeled contraption that she was powering forward with each rotation of her peddling.

It had been a frightful few minutes when she had realized that he was no longer behind her, unsure what would happen to her without him there to catch her should she fall. However, once she made it to the end of the block, stopping herself, the fear was replaced by happiness that she was able to accomplish the goal alone. She could still recall the look on her father's face as he jogged to catch up with her, the pride and joy etched into his smile.

The second time fear took hold of her had been months later and much more traumatizing. She and her parents had been driving home from the movies on a stormy night when the car lost control and spun off the slick road, flipping over onto the hood. The screams of her mother and the shouts of her father echoed in her ears as her young mind tried to process why the car was moving upside down. She wasn't sure at the time how long they had been sliding upside down, but she could clearly recall when the car jerked to a stop; with a mix of shattering glass and the loud screeching of the car frame twisting around the guard rail.

She still held onto the memory of the sound of her own cries as she called out to her mother and father, begging for them to tell her that they were alright, only to be met with the crackling sound from the wrecked engine. It was only a few minutes later that she had been pulled free from the wreckage and learned that she was the sole survivor. The fear of never seeing her parents again took such a tight hold of her that she didn't talk for a full year following the accident for fear that opening her mouth would result in a frightful scream.

Sofia's life changed in so many ways on that fateful night. Little did she know that the most tragic event in her life would be the most empowering one. For twenty seven years she dealt with everything that was tossed her way, things that would rattle the nerves of others didn't have the same affect on her. From dealing with playground bullies, to cruel men who found joy in blood sport, most things didn't reach the level of fear that she experienced that stormy night. It all paled in comparison.

Until tonight.

Sofia knew that the Reaper of Death had left her alone that night, other than a few scraps and the nightmares, she had been physically unharmed. However tonight was different, she didn't think that Death would just walk away this time around, without leaving his mark.

She had thought that she would be able to handle dealing with the intruders, this was her clinic and she was going to defend it. However, it never crossed her mind that whoever was beating down the door would have a weapon. It never registered that they would have a gun and actually fire it at her.

She hadn't seen anything more than a large shadow enter through the bust door before something in her told her to get down. It was only a split second later that the glass window in the door shattered and rained down on her. Without thinking she had covered herself, hopping that the glass wouldn't cut her as it fell around her.

She waited for a minute until she heard some shuffling within the shelter, their movements masked by the barking and growling dogs. She knew that she needed to do something or she was going to lose more than some equipment and supplies.

"HEY!" she called out, hoping to gain the attention of whoever had shot at her. "I don't care what you take, just get it and leave!" She yelled out, hoping that they would just get what they wanted and would go without much trouble. As much as she wanted to stand up and fight for what was hers, it wasn't worth being killed over.

When she didn't hear anything, other than the dogs in the kennels moving around and barking, she took a deep breath and decided to try and get a look into the shelter and see if they had left. Everything in her was telling her to stay down and get back to the main clinic and call the police, but there was another part of her telling her to deal with this herself.

Looking down and seeing that the tranquilizer gun was still gripped in her hand, she told herself that she could do this. She knew that she had to show that she wasn't afraid, even if she was. With another deep calming breath, she stood up and turned to get a look through the now busted window.

What she was met with would beat out the memory of the night her mother and father died. There, right on the other side of the door she found herself facing the deadly stare of dark eyes and the barrel of a gun. She couldn't make out his true appearance, the dark black ski mask covering his face and even his neck from her view, and the matching dark clothing offered her nothing to identify him by.

However it wasn't what he was wearing that brought on the fear, it was everything from the cold calculating glare of his dark eyes, his strong steadfast stance, solid build, and the confident grip on his weapon that told her that her only chance at survival was in his glove covered hands. This man before her was dangerously deadly, and she didn't want to give him anymore reason to harm her than simply being there after hours.

In her head she couldn't help but notice that everything about him screamed predator. He towered over her small frame, his six foot plus height casting a shadow over her five foot five. She could feel the unnatural and deadly explosive strength that was no doubt coiled tight waiting to be released. Everything in society would tell her that this was someone to keep away from; nothing good came from men like the one before her. However, she couldn't help the warm feeling that took over her stomach. There was a part of her, the raw and animalistic part, that couldn't help but admire his show of strength and confidence.

'_I've lost it!'_ She thought to herself as she kept her eyes on the gun. _'It has to be the drugs, lack of sleep and long hours.'_ There was no other reason she could think of that would explain why she was feeling what she was in her gut.

Before she could make a move to surrender, she felt herself being forced back and pressed against the wall behind the door. The back of her head hitting the wall hard as she brought up her right arm to try and push back on the door only to have it pinned between her and the door. Her arm throbbed painfully as the force of his weight held the door preventing her from moving from out behind it. His gloved hand was gripping the frame where the window had been only a few minutes ago. He raised the gun and she could feel the warm metal through her clothing as he pressed it right over her heart. She took a sharp intake of breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment.

"Not a word" he told her, and she wasn't sure if he had growled it or if it was his normal voice. She could hear the death in his words and knew that if she didn't do as he said he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger again.

She opened her eyes and met his, as she nodded. She wasn't about to go against him and speak her understanding. He looked down and took hold of the rifle that was held out around the door in her left hand. With a solid jerk he pulled it free from her grasp and tossed it down the hallway out of her reach.

Something behind him caught his attention and pulled his gaze away from her for a moment. All she could hear was the beating and pulsating of her blood ringing in her ears. Looking back at her a few seconds later, his eyes still dark and every bit as deadly, he moved the gun away from her only a bit and she saw him looking down at her. Closing her eyes, she was trying to distance herself and prepare for whatever he would do to her. She wasn't sure what his purpose for breaking into her clinic was but the way his eyes where sweeping over her and the cold numbing feeling that washed over her, brought up plenty of ideas of what he could force on her.

Before she could risk begging him not to hurt her she felt the barrel of the gun grace over the left side of her coat. The touch was light but still unnerving as it graced right above her pocket where her name was embroidered in a light blue script.

"You're a Doctor?" the rough voice asked again, nothing nice or pleasant about it.

Keeping in mind his warning about talking, she nodded her head once again. She felt a relief of pressure as he pulled himself away from the door. "Move" he said as he nodded to the other side of the door, keeping his gun aimed at her the whole time. He allowed her to move from out behind the door and then reached out and grabbed her at the back of the neck in one quick movement.

His strong grip on her neck was painful but she wasn't about to complain. She let him move her into the shelter and then over to the door that had been busted down. As they got closer to the door, she saw another figure slouched on the ground, groaning in pain. The lighting was poor so she couldn't see what was wrong with the man, who was barely sitting upright as he leaned back on the wall across from the kennels, but the way that he was holding onto his right side and groaning told her that he was in a great deal of pain.

She felt pressure at her neck forcing her down. "Fix him" the man behind her said in a voice that left no room to argue.

She knew that she had been told not to talk but if her only way of making it through the night was helping this man she needed to know what was wrong with him, and if there was anything that she could even do to help him. "What happened to him?" she asked trying to keep the fear out of her voice. As soon as the words left her mouth she felt his grip on her neck tighten.

"I said not a word." he spoke to her as he leaned down to her left side. She could feel the pressure of the gun at the small of her back.

Taking a deep breath she prepared herself for what she was about to do. She knew the man had warned her not to talk and she really didn't want to piss him off to the point that he would put a bullet in her, but there were some things that she needed to know. "I need to know what is wrong with him so that I know if I can help him." She spoke up once again. Before he could have time to react to her going against his instructions, she explained herself; "I'm a vet, I work on animals not humans." Trying to talk through the pain that was tightening on her neck, she said, "Even though humans are mammals, our biology is different."

She was half expecting him to pull the trigger for her talking, but instead she felt the pressure around her neck ease up only a bit. It was quiet for a moment and she knew that he was thinking over what she had told him.

"He has a large wound on his side" he replied. "Stop the bleeding" he said and she knew by the tone of his voice that failure wasn't an option.

"Not here" she said before thinking about what it would sound like to the man who had her life in his hand. "The lighting is poor, and it's not the cleanest of places." She tried to rush out her explanation as fast as she could. Her mind was already thinking like the doctor she was, and even though this man before her wasn't her normal type of patient she was going to try and do what she could do for him. Her thinking was cut off when she felt a rough jerk on her hair as he fisted a handful and yanked her head back. She felt the pressure of the gun once again, this time pressing on her temple.

"You wanna die?" he stated as he leaned in close to her ear. She couldn't help but feel the warm breath on her skin as he spoke. The adrenaline flowing through her veins and the opening up of the pores in her noise, it was extremely difficult to ignore the scent of the man who held her. She couldn't put a name to every part of the mixture that made up his own unique sent, but the heavy tobacco and octane where easy to identify.

She shook her head, "If you pull the trigger then there isn't anyone who is going to be able to help him. I'm guessing that you can't do anything for him or else you wouldn't have broken into my clinic." She said boldly, ignoring the pulling pain of her scalp, "I didn't say that I wouldn't help him."

She felt his strong fingers ease up but he didn't let go of his hold. She exclaimed, "There isn't much I can do for him out here. I need to get him inside the clinic."

Without warning, he let go of his hold on her with a forceful shove and moved around to his friend. Even though he had held her at gun point, and had even taken a shot at her, she couldn't help but admire his strength as he bent down and lifted the injured man up and over his shoulder without any show of trouble or strain. She could see that everything he was doing was in order to help his hurt companion and it told her all she needed to know. He may be acting cold and forceful towards her, but he was worried about his partner.

"Get up." he told her.

Picking herself off the shelter floor, she stood like he had ordered her to. She could feel that he still had the gun pointed at her, knowing that he wanted her to lead the way into the clinic. She turned slowly and started to walk toward the main building, her movements slow and steady as to not surprise her captor. As they passed the doorway she saw the rifle on the floor and for a moment thought about making a go at it, only to remember that he would shoot her at the first thought of trouble. Inadvertently, she must have slowed down because she soon felt the barrel of the gun at the base of her back.

"Keep moving." he ordered her with an added nudge of the gun into her back. She knew that it wasn't wise to give the man anymore reason to shoot her so she kept moving. Everything in her mind was telling her to do what she needed to do in order to make it through this night. She would comply with him and his orders to help his friend, only if it meant that he wouldn't kill her. She nodded to him, letting him know that she wasn't going to try anything and continued down the hallway.

It wasn't long before they had reached the main clinic and she led them to one of the surgical rooms. She had preformed many surgeries and other medical tasks in this very room but never on a human being before. Her nerves where on high alert as she held the door open for the man, knowing that her life depended on the outcome; however, she was more worried that she wouldn't be able to help his friend.

Once he walked in, she let go of the door and walked around the room stopping to grab the items that she knew she would need. Medical gloves, disinfectant, gauze, and a few other things she picked up and held in her arms. "Lay him down on the table." she instructed as she walked back and set everything down on the side try.

She couldn't help but watch as the man put his friend down. She arranged the tray in order of what she would need so that it would be easy for her to work. She pulled out two large blue gloves from the box and held them out to him over the body of his comrade. "You're going to have to help me..." she said, waiting for him to take the gloves she was offering him.

She was waiting with baited breath as he just glared at her. The look in his eyes told her that he was thinking over his options. She watched as he placed the safety back on his gun and slipped it into the folds of his clothing. He then began to remove his own dark leather gloves off his hands. She let out the breath that she had been holding in as she glanced down at his strong hands, taking in the tan skin and tattoos that covered his long fingers. Before she could make out what the ink said she felt him take the offered latex gloves and placed them over his hands covering the markings from her view.

Pulling her thoughts away from what little she had seen of the man who was standing across from her, she redirected her focus. It was an odd sight to see a grown man dressed in all black and a ski mask over his face with medical gloves on, but she didn't have time to waste on pondering it. Reaching for another set of gloves from a different box she slipped her hands in and began to scan over the man who lay out on the table in need of her help.

"I need to lift up his shirt to get a clear look at the wound." she said, talking to him as if he was one of her techs. "I need you to lift him up and roll him over onto his side towards me." She was glad that he didn't waste time and did what she asked him to. She let him lift his friend up and then reached forward to pull up the blood soaked clothing. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the man who lay weak on the table as he groaned with every move that was made.

She pulled back the heavy sweatshirt and was met with another obstacle. "What the hell" she said to herself under her breath; however, it was still loud enough for her makeshift assistant to hear.

"Kevlar vest." she heard his rough voice say, not offering her anymore to go on than that.

'_Who are these guys?'_ she thought to herself as she looked the vest over. She could see now that the sweatshirt was lifted that the wound was on his lower side, directly under the vest. "This vest is going to have to come off. I can't see the entire wound so I'm not sure how bad it is." she explained. Before he could reply she moved her hand to the Velcro strip and pulled it back, loosening that area of the vest. She could hear the painful groan of the man and offered some light words to try and comfort him.

Knowing that there wasn't any way that they would be able to pull off his blood drenched clothing and the vest without causing more harm, Sofia reached out for her cutting shears and took the helm of his sweatshirt in her hands. She didn't wait to get approval and did what needed to be done. "I hope he wasn't attached to this." she said more to calm herself than to start a conversation. Once the cut sweatshirt was pulled away, she placed it directly into a red hazard/biological disposal bag.

The vest was easier to get off then she thought it would be. She watched as the man took it upon himself to loosen the straps and slide it off his friend, placing it down on the floor beside him. Once the vest was removed all that remained was a thin once-white tank style sleeveless shirt. She lifted the light cotton shirt up and away from his body, apologizing to him as it pulled at the torn skin around his cut open side.

Now that she could get a clear look at the wound site she took the disinfecting rinse and washed it over the torn tissue. She was met with a hiss of pain and she had to back away a bit as he thrashed around on the table, cursing out in pain.

Taking a moment to reevaluate the situation she was in, she looked over her patient. There was nothing to tell her what his heart rate was or his oxygen level but she knew she had to do the best she could. He was already fading in and out and she realized that he hadn't said a single a word to her. With that mask covering his face she couldn't tell if he was losing color and it made it hard to see if he was breathing properly. Pulling her eyes away from the man lying on her table she looked over at the man standing across from her.

"Look" she began, "If you really want me to help him you are going to have to help me out." she said with confidence. "You are going to have to hold him down and that mask is going to have to come off him. It's restricting his breathing." she exclaimed.

She wasn't sure what his reaction was going to be, but she had prepared herself to deal with whatever outrage he directed at her. She could see in her mind's eye him lunging across the table and over his friend, grabbing her in his hands and chocking the life out of her for her bold words. However she wasn't going to apologize for speaking out, she wasn't trying to anger him or trick him into anything. She truly wanted to do what was asked of her, or ordered, and help the man who needed her medical assistance.

Her mind never even considered what really happened. Without saying anything, the man reached out and carefully took off the mask that covered his friends face. Before she could register what had just happened, she looked up as she saw that he had also removed his own ski mask.

For a moment she forgot where she was as she took in his features. She had known from his glare that he was one not to be messed with and that he wouldn't hesitate to carry out what he set his mind to. The tight muscles in his jaw, clenching and unclenching, told her that he was reaching the edge of his limits and the ever present glare in his dark eyes told her that she had just made this harder for herself.

She had now seen their faces and even though she was going to help them, even if it was against her will, something told her that they weren't just going to leave once she had done what she could.

_**Authors Notes:**_ Alright, this chapter was going to be much longer then I thought, so I had to split it up into two parts as I said before. I'm working on the next part now, and I hope to have it up within the next week, or so.

Thank you all for reading and I hope that you all enjoyed with chapter, and as always, I would love to hear what you all think so far.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Authors Notes:**_ Here is the second half of chapter five, I am sorry that it took me almost five months to get this out. I hope that you all can forgive me, and enjoy this chapter. I'm hoping that there will not be anymore long delays in this story.

Thank you to all those who have kept reading and reviewing, and for those of you who PM'ed me asking me when I was going to update. If it wasn't for you, I would have let real life keep getting into the way. The only way to get time in life to do anything is to make it. Again, I do hope that you all can forgive me for taking time off.

This is going to be a shorter chapter, but I hope that you all enjoy the update.

_**Killer Instinct**_

_**Chapter Five – Part Two**_

Something was wrong; Tig could feel it in his bones. Snuffing out the dying cigarette that he held between his finger and thumb on the ground, he looked down at his watch and saw that the ten minutes he had giving Happy to check in had turned into twenty.

"Fucking shit" He muttered under his breath as he pushed himself off the side of the van. "Times up, we're going in." He called out to his brothers as he patted his body to double check that he had put on his Kevlar vest before they had left. If they had to go in and pull their brothers out, the chances of him taking a hit was high. However it was something that he was more than willing to do if it meant that his brothers made it back home with breath still in their lungs.

Feeling the protective, solid shield under his dark sweatshirt, he waved his hands around to get everyone to huddle in closer. "We don't know if their cover was blown or not, so keep it quite. We get in, grab Hap and Juice, and get the fuck out."

It was clear that everyone was thinking the same thing. The fact that they had not heard anything from their brothers was not a good sign. Having to go in after Happy and Juice, to pull them out of a possible dangerous situation, was not something that many of them thought they would need to do. Happy was known for getting himself, and his fellow brethren out of harm's way. The fact that they were going in to pull him out was not lost on the group.

Without voicing their fears, in fear of jinxing the rescue, they all knew that this was not the time to half ass it. Every one of them needed to be on top of their game. The lives of two brothers relayed on them getting in and getting out without running into too much trouble.

With one last nod to the brothers around him, Tig tried to reassure himself that Hap's phone died. It was the batteries fault for them not checking in. As much as he knew he was lying to himself, it forced him to think positive.

_**SOA**_

Happy wasn't sure if this night could get any worse. He simply stared at the young doctor as she looked Juice over. He didn't like the thought of removing Juice's ski mask, it would give her a face to remember, however if he hadn't it could have made mater worse, and he wasn't willing to gamble with Juice life like that.

Knowing that there could be repercussions later down the line for the club, Happy did the only thing that he knew to do at the time, and had removed the mask from Juice. In anger, at himself and at the situation, he removed his own. There was no use in keeping his face hidden any longer, and he wasn't about to let Juice be exposed alone while he barely knew what was going on around him.

He looked back over at the young doctor as she worked. _'Sofia Reagan'_ he thought to himself as he recalled what had been embroidered on her coat, he stored her name away in his mind incase he needed to recall it latter.

He kept his eyes on her the whole time as she worked, cleaning the torn skin and then lightly prodding around the wound to check and make sure that everything was clean and clear. It wasn't long after that she started to stitch him up, all the while Happy keeping his eyes trained on her. He didn't have a lot of hands on knowledge when it came to medical procedures, but he had seen enough in his life to know that this woman, who was focused on the task before her, was indeed doing her best to treat the wound without causing Juice anymore pain.

"Almost done." Her voice cut through his thoughts. He didn't reply, but nodded. What was there for him to say?

Keeping his eye's trained on her every movement, knowing that Juice was almost patched up; Happy began to think about what needed to be done next. He needed to get word to Tig, letting him know what had happened before he came in guns blazing. As far as he knew, the Mayan's hadn't figured out who they were looking for.

Should Tig come in with his guns drawn, it wouldn't be very hard to the Mayan's to figure out who had been in their warehouse. It would blow back on them and the club. They could not afford another turf war, and Happy knew that this time around it would be an all out blood bath. The club and his brothers had too many other things to worry about, if they went to war with the Mayan's again, it could be the death of SAMCRO.

As much as he knew that getting word to Tig was important, he also knew that he had to deal with another lose end. He couldn't leave till he dealt with the doctor.

_**SOA**_

It didn't take long for Tig and the others to locate the other van, hidden and out of sight. It was clear to everyone that Happy and Juice hadn't made it back to the van, as it sat vacant.

"Shit" Tig muttered under his breath as he looked around. "Get this back to the shop. We can't leave it here." He said as he looked to the prospect. Deep down he couldn't stop thinking over all the horrible possibilities from running though his head.

Hearing a twig snap off to his right, Tig brought up his firearm, silencer screwed into place, he lined up his shot ready to fire off a round into anyone who was going to poke their head out.

"Fucking shit, man it's just me." Koz called out in a load whisper. "There are fucking wet backs all over the place."

Lowering his gun, still keeping it at the ready, Tig thought things over. "Shit, that means they are looking for someone," Looking at his surroundings. If the Mayan's where out and looking around, they had to be on their guard. There wasn't going to be anyone around to rescue them should they need it.

"Yeah it also means that they haven't found them yet. That's good news." Koz added, keeping his voice low.

"There may be a chance that they couldn't make it back to the van, but found some other place to lay low." Tig thought out. He had to keep thinking that Hap and Juice where fine, that they were holed up somewhere that they couldn't risk a phone call, or a trip to the van. He could only hope that them rushing in to the rescue wasn't going to blow their cover and get them all killed.

"There are some buildings on the other side of the tree line." The prospect spoke up in hushed tones. "Could have hidden away in one of them till the heat cools down." He offered.

Both Tig and Koz glared at him for speaking up out of turn, but they didn't say anything knowing that he had a very good point.

"Get the van back to charming, and then wait for my call." Tig ordered.

With a game plan somewhat set, Tig then looked over to Koz. "You and me are going to sweep through the tree line and see if we can pick up a trail, see if we can find them."

_**SOA**_

Tying off the last stitch, Sophia glanced up to peek at the other man who had been watching her the whole time she was working on his friend. She didn't miss the way he kept his cold stare trained on her every move, nor did the strain in his jaw muscles go unnoticed.

The man before her was more animal than human, something that made her make sure to think though her every move before making them. Just like most of the dogs in her care, if she read them wrong they would attack. She had no doubt in her mind that if she made a move that he wasn't ready for, he would do the same. His type was used to relaying on their instinct first and foremost. If his gut told him to react, he would without a second thought. It had be the same with Blue.

At the thought, the pain in her arm came back to the forefront of her mind. She had already misjudged one animal today and paid the price with blood, she didn't want to have a repeat of the mistake.

Setting down the instruments that she had used to stitch up the young man, she took off the bloody gloves and tossed them into another open HazMat bag. Pulling two more clean gloves out of the box and placing them on her hands, she reached over and picked up a pack of gauze. Ripping it open, she took out two patches and placed them over the still raw wound.

"Keep the stitched and wound dry for forty eight hours. If water gets into the wound before the skin has hand time to scab over, he could get an infection. The dressings need to be changed every three to five hours for the same reason." She spoke up as she focused on taping the gauze patches in place. "After the forty eight hours, he can take a shower without worry about getting an infection. The stitches will dissolve on their own, so you don't have to worry about pulling them out. Just make sure that the wound site stays clean, and he shouldn't have anything to worry about."

Once Sophia was sure that the dressing would hold, she stood up straight and looked across the medical table to the other man. She wasn't stupid and knew that her usefulness was coming to an end. She was sure that he was processing way to 'deal' with her, and every possible outcome way running in her mind.

Not giving him time to develop a concrete plan, she come up with her own, hopping that he would go along with it. Picking up the HazMat bag, and tying it off, she tossed it, along with the other one, into a larger trash bag. " These can't be found within the clinic. If I'm going to report this as a brake in, then they are going to be looking for anything that could have been left behind." She said as she held it out to him. She watched as he moved around to grab the bag.

Not wait to see if he was going to say anything, she moved over to a medical cabinet, grabbed another trash bag and started to empty out the cabinet. Once the cabinet was clear, she held out the bag for him. "Have to make it look as real as possible." She reasoned. "There should be enough in there to change out his wound dressings without having to go out and get more." She added.

Once again, he took the bag, holding it in the same hand as the other.

Reaching into her pocket she felt her two medication bottles, and pulled them out. "Here, you should take these too." She said handing them over. If she was going to try and sale this to the police as a break in, there were some things that she was going to have to make sure got taken. Her scrip's were one of the items that would be taken.

"The one with the white cap is pain medication. Have him take one every four to six hours or as needed, but don't let him take more than six within a twenty four hour time period." She informed him. "The one with the red cap is an antibiotic. Two times a day with food, for a week. It'll make sure that he doesn't develop any type of infection. But you still need to keep the wound dry for the next two days." She instructed him.

Hopping that she wasn't confusing him, she could only watch as he pocked the two small bottles, placing them inside his dark sweatshirt.

_**SOA**_

Happy took the offered bottles and placed them close to his body. Getting medical attention for his brothers was hard to come by, and getting good prescriptions was even harder for some. He wasn't about to let this opportunity slip by him.

He was also slightly surprised that the young doctor had come up with her own plan, and wasn't begging for her life like so many others would be if they were in her shoes. He wasn't sure what he was going to do about her, but the thought of putting a bullet in her head had been one option that crossed his mind. It may leave a mess, but it would insure that she didn't talk.

"Here, you should take this too." Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts as he looked at her to see her holding out a key ring.

"It's to the van out back. It'll get you to where you need to go, but then I would dump it. It has a GPS chip in the engine, so once I repost it missing, they'll activate it." She said.

"Why you telling me this?" Happy had to ask. He was at a loss as to why she would go through so much to help them. If it was anyone else, they would have been praying that they wouldn't think about the GPS and that the police would track them though it.

"I'm not stupid." She said straight forward. "I know that you have no reason to trust me, you where just concurred for your friend, I can't blame you for that. I'm just hoping that you want have to kill me. I rather like my life right now." She said without any fear.

Happy couldn't help but smile. She was a smart bitch. "If you speak one word of us being here, I _will_ be back." He said to her, leaving the threat open.

"I won't say anything to lead them to you, whoever you are." She said.

"Glad we have an understanding." He said as he made his way to the table to get Juice up. After patting his face lightly and getting him to wake up, he placed his arm under his shoulders to give him something to lean on. Making sure that he had a tight hold on both bags, and Juice arm, he warped his other arm around his back to help guide him. With the keys in his other hand, he made his way to the back port. He was surprised once again as the young doctor held open the doors for him, making it easier for him to walk down the hallways.

Once out in the back, Happy wasted no time in getting Juice inside the van. However before he made his way to the other side, he made his way back over to the doctor, who was standing just inside the door.

"Gott'a make it look real." Was all he said before he lifted up his right hand and delivered a solid right hook. He withheld most of his straight, not wanting to cause major damage, but enough to knock her out for a while. Without a second glace back at the young women who was passed out on the ground, he made his way to the driver side and opened the door.

Putting the van into drive, and pulling away from the back bay of the clinic, Happy was about to turn onto the main drive when he saw to shadows moving to his right.

_**Authors Notes:**_ Once again, I'm sorry that it's shorter than the others, and I'm sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes. I didn't have a whole lot of time to really read over and check this chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

Dear _Killer Instinct _readers,

It is with great regret that I must inform you all that I will be unable to continue with most of the stories that I have been working on. Over the last few months much has happened and I have had to make many hard decisions.

About a month ago, my computer crashed and I lost everything. All the stories that I had been working on, chapters to update, and other works that I had yet to even post. (I even lost all the baby pictures of my son.) We were unable to save anything, and it is very despairing to have lost everything so suddenly. Most of you understand that it take a lot of time and effort to bring to life the writing on a page, and when I lost everything it hurt. I will admit that I was very depressed that we were unable to recover anything to the point that my husband went out and bought me a new computer to try and cheer me up. (He tries.)

Along with losing everything on the computer, I have been rather sick. I suffer from Crohn's, and for the last 12 years I have been in remission. However the last few months it has come back full force and I have been having to deal with the pain, even having to go to the ER. Unable to eat much and spending most of my days resting. It's hard to find time to write, when I also have my son to look after. The only up side to the liquid diet is the weight lost! (I have been wanting to lose weight for a while now, however this wasn't the way I wanted to do it, but I'm trying to look for the good side in this.)

Last but not least, I have been working on a very personal project. Writing a book. Unlike writing fan fiction, writing a book take much more time and effort. Having to spend time developing each and every character, plot and outcome. With the help of my father, he has been able to make contact with some editors and publishers who have shown an interest in the plot, I can only hope to write something new and fresh or everyone to read.

I am unsure how long it will take to finish the book, but I know that it's going to take time.

I am very thankful to all my readers, those of you who have reviewed and have added me to their alert list, and even their favorite list. With all the feedback, good and bad, it has helped make me a better writer, and I can only hope to grow as I continue to work on this new project.

If you would like to learn more, or been informed about the book once it comes out, please let me know through a e-mail or review, and I will contact you. I do try to respond to everyone, however it may take time.

If all goes well this is not a goodbye, but the opening to another chapter. I do hope to pick up on the stories and bring them to an end at some point, I'm just unsure when that till happen.

I love you all so very much, and thank you for all your support and understanding.

Danni (DanniMitchell85)


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